Bun Butter Jam Review – A Sweet Start That Gets Lost in the Spread
Bigg Boss fame Raju makes his on-screen debut with Bun Butter Jam, a coming-of-age dramedy that explores the complexities of love, friendship, and generational perspectives on relationships. Directed by Raghav Mirdath and produced by Rain of Arrow Entertainment, the film tries to offer a wholesome slice of contemporary youth and family dynamics, but ends up biting off more than it can chew.
The story follows a teenager (Raju) stepping into college life, where he falls for his classmate (Bhavya Trikha). This budding romance causes a rift with his childhood friend (Michael). Meanwhile, their mothers, Saranya Ponvannan and Divya Darshini, whose elder children are facing divorces, hatch a plan to get Raju and Aadhiya (played by Aadhiya Prasad) married, pretending it’s love at first sight.
From this point, Bun Butter Jam becomes a buffet of subplots, love triangles, crumbling friendships, matchmaking moms, unexplored side arcs (like Charlie’s character chain-smoking through scenes), and scattered family drama. The film juggles too many threads, leaving little room for any emotional depth to truly resonate. At times, it feels like a TV serial rather than a theatrical feature.
Performance-wise, Raju, Bhavya Trikha, and Aadhiya Prasad deliver commendable work. Pappu, post-Thiruchitrambalam, shows decent range. However, Saranya Ponvannan and Divya Darshini tend to overplay their roles, needing tighter direction. Charlie, unfortunately, has little narrative weight.
The biggest plus is Nivas K Prasanna’s musical score, his BGM beautifully uplifts emotional and comedic sequences. The visuals are vibrant, with cinematography that fits the film’s tone well.
If only Raghav had trimmed down the clutter and focused more on a core emotional arc, Bun Butter Jam could’ve been a much richer watch. While the film has its share of delightful moments, it struggles with tonal imbalance and narrative sprawl.
Bun Butter Jam Review
Summary
Verdict: An emotionally confused toast — crisp in parts, but soggy with too many spreads.